Tipical Nordics
by PrinceKei
Summary: A perspective upon a Nordic way of everyday live, taken from the point of view of a certain Icelander's view


Centuries of mornings and long lasting days of eventful memories wasn't even the beginning to a certain volcanic nation's life. The sheets ruffled smoothly with the slightest movement of the body interlocked around them shifted ever so slightly from the dim light that peeked over the crack of the curtain that supposedly blocked the morning sun's gleam into the room. A soft knock echoed into the messy, unattended room causing the teenager to groan lightly in response to the 'disturbance' that creeped into the morning he wished to skip.

"Hey, are you up yet? Breakfast is in thirty minutes."

A soft, gentle voice was dancing upon the lull of the house. It had a steady tone, as if it was made of soft stone that could swiftly move across a stream without fail, though stay unbroken without a slightest crack. The doorknob turned then with a quiet creek that welcomed the uninvited guest into the room. The teen stayed still within the sheets of his comfortable bed, hoping that maybe the other will deem him asleep still and leave.

"Emil, I know you're awake."  
He still didn't make any acknowledgement towards the other, keeping his solace state as if he was still within sleep. Soft shifting was heard as he heard the other grow closer and nearer. Staying completely still, it honestly felt like something was. . . off. Everything seemed to have gone silent. The teen opened an icy-blue eye, slowly skimming the area.

Nothing.

That's when he felt two cold hands wrap around his ankles. Both eyes widening, he yelped quietly as he was pulled out of bed with a swift yank, startled as his body thudded to the ground softly on the covers that laid scattered on the floor.

"Up and at 'em, Ice. That stench you carry won't go away by itself, ya know."

The Icelander groaned, slowly sitting up as he rubbed at his head, trying to sooth the slight bruise that was already forming. Sighing, he looked up at the blonde that towered over him.

"You could've just woke me up with a simple shoulder shake like any normal person would. ."

The navy, dull orbs locked right onto his icy-blue eyes as a slight, half-smile cracked the fragile expression the other kept.

"If I did that, you'd turn your back and ignore me."

Emil made a face, hating how his brother knows him too well. Slightly shifting, he slowly got to his feet, ruffling his snow-like hair to ease up the drowsiness that curled upon him. The blonde papped his cheeks, giving him a twenty minute warning to get ready before exiting the room, leaving the teenager be. The lull was back within the house as he watched the other disappear into the hallway, leaving him in his room alone again. The Icelander yawned as he stretched his arms up above over his head to the point he heard his back give a satisfying crack before he shifted his feet slightly out of his room and into the bathroom right next door. Flicking the switch on the wall, his eyes squinted at the bright light that lit the bathroom clearly. Upon looking at his reflection, he stared intently at his features, the same as decades ago, not even a year or two older in physical appearance. Funny how personifications worked out, growing older each day with the property they hold as their land, but they never seem to age on the outside, staying like they used to a decade or two ago. A squeak played when the teen turned the valve to the left, cupping his hands together under the cool water that flowed out of the faucet. After collecting the fresh, clear liquid, he splashed it upon his face, giving himself a soothing, yet relieving burst of awakening from the drowsiness he was in earlier. It took mere seconds for Emil to relax once the water had settled into his skin, grabbing the baby blue towel that hung on the wall next to the sink as if they were neighbors of some sort. Dabbing his face dry, he placed the already damp towel back to where it belonged, already smelling the sweet scent of food that danced so wonderfully in the air surrounding him. A slight smile rested upon his features as he turned the lights off before he parted from the bathroom. Following the sweet and deliciously aroma, his stomach made a soft purring noise as if begging his feet to go faster towards the source of the smell. Though once the Icelander got to the stairs, he froze. Three other voices were heard chattering away on the floor below him. The shuffling of chairs and clanking of glasses and plates could be heard rhythming along with the whispers and babbles of the others. The smile had slowly faded into a simple frown of realization.

Today's breakfast had company.


End file.
